


blossom

by LittleUrchin



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Flowerchild!Harry, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Punk!Louis, and larry being cute, just a bit of kissing, okay now there's smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleUrchin/pseuds/LittleUrchin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>maybe louis is smitten for the boy that always has flowers sat atop his curls.</p><p>maybe one day he decides to do something about it.</p><p>and maybe it pays off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi.
> 
> this is my first time posting something on ao3. i wrote this as my first oneshot in general and posted it on wattpad, so yeah, don't worry if you see this here or see it on there and think there's some sort of plagiarising going on. s'all good.
> 
> sorry for the length. the second part will be longer. this was basically just me releasing pent-up feelings about louis with tattoos and harry with flower crowns and the two of them together being typically adorable so yeah i'm sort of new and i hope you like it okay bye
> 
> x

He went there every single day, without fail. Rain or shine, hot or cold, he could always be found in that damn field of flowers behind the high school.

And it fascinated Louis as much as it puzzled him.

Louis was never really one to take much interest in others. He had a couple of close acquaintances that he could safely rely on, but he never invested in any serious relationships or friendships or any other things ending in _ship_. He was more the type of boy to take naps when he was bored instead of texting people, ask his sort-of-friends to give him tattoos instead of asking to hang out, and slip on his headphones during free periods so he could listen to some alternative band instead of being subjected to pointless small talk with his peers. He was bored of people asking why he dyed his hair red, what his tattoos meant, or how it felt to have a piercing, so he just avoided interaction with most people, making sure he made himself seem unapproachable.

But this boy... He was different. Louis hadn’t spoken a single word to the boy in his life, but he knew he was just different. _Special_.

He loved to observe the curly-haired boy, loved to watch him as he walked around the side of the building, adjusting the straps on his backpack almost neurotically, like a nervous habit. The boy’s— _his name was Harry, Louis remembered fondly_ —frame looked, despite his towering height, dwarfed by the oversized cream-coloured sweater he wore, the ends of the sleeves reaching just past his balled-up hands. He’d gnaw gently on his perfect pink lip, jade eyes soft and slightly unfocused as he simply followed the same path he walked every day.

It wasn’t like Louis _stalked_ him. He wouldn’t consider it that, anyway.

It was merely a coincidence that Harry’s daily route passed right by the same place Louis hung out with those sort-of-friends of his every day after school, chatting aimlessly about things he couldn’t care to recall later. How could the blue-eyed boy be blamed for wanting to watch Harry? Again, he simply fascinated Louis.

It wasn’t just the eyes, or the body, or the cute way he’d sometimes pull his silver airplane necklace out from beneath his sweater just to fiddle with it mindlessly. It wasn’t even the way he’d sometimes kick adorably at the rocks that littered his path, occasionally tripping over his own big feet in the process, then looking around to see if anyone had noticed.

No, it wasn’t really any of those things.

What captured—and _kept_ —Louis’s attention was that damn _flower crown_ perched atop the boy’s silky brown curls.

And it was that same damn flower crown that finally pushed Louis to just go with his gut and jump off the stone bench he was previously sat upon, dashing after the sweet-faced boy. Said boy had just slipped into the line of trees, on the other side of which Harry’s field awaited not only one teen but two today. The inked-up lad ignored his friends’ curious calls, leaving them behind without a second thought because he _needed_ to follow Harry, _needed_ to see him up close for once, _needed_ to finally hear his voice.

And maybe he wouldn’t really mind feeling those luxurious pink lips against his, too.

No, he definitely wouldn’t mind _that_.

By the time Louis finally reached the field—it surprised him how many damn trees there were here; how had Harry even managed to find this place?—Harry was already settled comfortably in the middle of it, the delicate centerpiece in a congregation of yellow daffodils, white daisies, and a plethora of wildflowers scattered amidst the grass. Somewhat to Louis’s surprise, the sight his eyes beheld was of Harry curled up in a ball on the ground, eyes shut and a pair of earbuds in, connected to the cassette player lying on the grass beside him. As Louis took a couple steps closer, still just barely on the outskirts of the field, he cocked his head slightly to the right curiously, wondering what tape the boy could be listening to, and also why he had such an outdated music player. He subconsciously fingered the edge of the iPhone 5 he had tucked inside the pocket of his ripped skinny jeans, musing on what type of music the other boy listened to. Did they like the same bands? As of now, Louis still had him pegged as an indie kind of kid.

Louis had been slowly inching forward, taking small baby steps as he distracted himself with his thoughts, becoming more and more apprehensive the closer he got. Suddenly, he came to a halt, not quite able to bring himself to stir the resting boy yet, who just looked too peaceful to disturb. Wondering if the boy was thinking about anything in particular or if he was simply enjoying the music in his ears, Louis let his gaze roam the field, eyes searching for nothing specific but finding something anyway. Louis was certain that if this was a cartoon, there would be a bright light bulb hovering above his head right about now.

Carefully, he treaded over to a patch covered in pretty blue and white daisies.

It took him about ten minutes to figure out how to twine and wrap the stems together properly in order to form a chain, but that time didn’t pass without a good amount of stolen glances to the oblivious boy nearby. He seemed to be sleeping now, and Louis thought to himself that Harry must have been the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, conscious or not. And he’d seen his fair share of lovely things in his life.

Finally, he’d completed his little project and, grinning down at it proudly, began to clamber up and trip over to where Harry lay, eager to present him with his handmade gift. Heaving a nervous sigh, Louis squatted down in front of Harry, rocking back and forth slightly on his heels. After several long beats of hesitation, Louis eventually mustered up the courage—or dumb bravery, whichever you’d like to call it—to lightly tap the younger boy on his arm, his fingertips lingering for just a moment longer on the soft fabric of his sweater. He hadn’t expected such a feather-light touch to rouse the seemingly unconscious boy, rather expecting several attempts to be necessary, but almost immediately, Harry’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing green of the loveliest shade Louis had ever seen.

Harry seemed only mildly startled by the other lad’s appearance, simply blinking up at him in a sleepy manner that Louis could only find to be extremely precious. The curly-haired teen slowly plucked the earbuds out and pushed himself into an upright sitting position, prompting Louis to follow suit so they were both sitting criss-cross applesauce opposite each other. One stared blankly; the other stared curiously, waiting.

_Okay_ , Louis thought.

_Here’s my chance,_ Louis thought.

_Really, Lou, say something, dammit_ , Louis thought.

Finally, he forced something out of his mouth, though all he could manage was an embarrassingly breathy, “Hello.”

“Hi,” Harry murmured back just as softly.

Okay, this was good. This was a start.

“You’re, ehm, Harry, right? Harry Styles?”

Harry nodded.

“And you’re Louis Tomlinson.” It wasn’t really a question, but Louis nodded in confirmation anyway, his head kind of just bobbling awkwardly.

“I walk past you everyday,” Harry added, as if he felt the need to explain how he knew the boy. “I, um, I see you—usually. With your friends.”

Louis cleared his throat, begging his face not to flush at this new tidbit of knowledge. Harry noticed him too? Was he as interested in Louis was Louis was in him? “Yeah, I, eh, see you too. When you pass by, I mean.”

At this, the corner of Harry’s rosy mouth lifted in the shy beginnings of a smile. Louis was hesitant to make eye contact now that he had a rather bold question pressing at the forefront of his mind, instead opting to stare down at his lap. Despite his reluctance, he cleared his throat again and willed himself to speak. All he could force out was, “Do you, um...” before he trailed off helplessly.

He hadn’t finished the question, or even really hinted at what he intended to ask, but apparently, Harry understood anyway because when Louis finally got the courage to look up, that ghost of a smile had grown into a full-on grin and the boy was nodding his head bashfully. His heart swelled to three times its normal size. He didn’t _need_ to finish the question; one glance at Harry’s telltale face and Louis knew, without a doubt, that he wasn’t the only one admiring from afar here.

Suddenly, he remembered what he was holding in his hands—how could he forget? Not really one for grace today, he abruptly thrust the chain of daisies towards the other boy, hoping to God he hadn’t crushed any of the petals. “Here, I, uh, I made this,” he announced briskly, feeling more unsure of himself than he ever had before. “Just now—for you.”

And _that_ —that caused the sweetest smile Louis had ever witnessed to spread across the other’s face. Harry was positively beaming, making grabby hands at the gift like a five-year-old that was just offered a second helping of cake.

And before Louis could stop himself, he was already reaching up to discard Harry’s current flower crown of budding red roses and replacing it with the one he had just made.

And then before _Harry_ could stop himself, he was already taking the crown of roses and settling it atop the other boy’s head of feathery dyed hair.

And then before _either_ of the boys could stop themselves, their eyes had already locked (green meeting blue); their warm breaths were already fanning over each other’s faces (peppermint battling cinnamon); and their mouths were already closing the distance (pink lips crashing into pink lips).

And then it was just Louis and Harry—meeting each other, touching each other, exploring each other—in that damn field of flowers behind the high school.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis and harry take a big step or two in their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo yeah i made a second part to this. considering making a third? hope you enjoy. x
> 
> p.s. there is smut in this.

“L-Lou, are you sure I’ll be okay?”

The boy in question smiled softly down at Harry as if he were the most precious thing he’d ever seen—which he probably was, actually. “Yes, Harold,” he answered. “I’m positive you’ll be alright. It won’t kill you.” A frown settled upon his lips, his expression turning thoughtful. “It will hurt you, though... A lot, considering it’s your first time... Are you sure you want to do this? We can do something else, Harry, if you’d like. We don’t  _have_  to do this.”

Harry breathed out a shaky huff of air, putting on his brave face, even though his spine was stiff and his hands were trembling in the too-long sleeves of his too-big sweater. Soft, red, and  _expensive_  cashmere this time. (Louis hadn’t known quite how loaded the Styles were until Harry invited him one day to see his family’s garden and they ended up cutting across the ridiculously expansive lawn of the mansion Harry called  _home_.)

“Yeah, I want this, Lou.”

Louis’s mouth softened into an almost-smile, though he still felt nervous for the boy. He hated knowing he would be the reason for the boy’s pain soon. “Okay, if you’re certain. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t be here with you, now would I?” Harry didn’t say it sarcastically or in a snarky manner; on the contrary, he was completely genuine, smiling sweetly at his boyfriend of three years to show that he truly did want to take this big step in their relationship. And he did. He just wasn’t sure how badly this would hurt. He’d never done it before whereas Louis was much more experienced.

It also didn’t help that he was terribly afraid of needles.

By now, they had reached the front of the tattoo parlour, Harry’s facial features contorting with anxiety. He curled his fingers tightly around his boyfriend’s, using his free hand to adjust the circlet of roses atop his head.

Louis let Harry cling to him throughout the entire process, singlehandedly checking them in at the desk, telling the tattoo artist what they wanted, and helping Harry settle into the chair. He didn’t mind the death grip Harry had on his poor hand, even if he felt like his bones were about to snap from the pressure. He gently cooed at the curly-haired boy when his eyes widened at the loud buzz of the tattoo pen, his eyes growing wet and shiny as the artist, Ben, carefully began his work on Harry’s skin. The sight of a rogue tear slipping down Harry’s face and into his mess of curls broke Louis’s heart, but he knew the boy would have never backed out of this, no matter how much it hurt him or how afraid he was - or how much Louis pestered him that they didn’t have to do this. Like a quiet little soldier, he endured the entirety of it without complaining, only crying silently.

“See, Harry, it looks lovely,” Louis exclaimed happily, trying to cheer up the younger boy. His eyes were still red-rimmed and a bit bloodshot from the crying he’d done, but he was giving his best attempt at a smile, gazing down at the finished work on his bicep. The rose took up a good chunk of space on his arm, the thorn-covered stem reaching just past his elbow.

“Yeah, it does look rather nice,” Harry muttered softly, still sniffling a bit.

“I never knew you had such a low threshold for pain, love,” Louis said quietly into Harry’s shoulder, leaning against him gently as a form of comfort. He knew by now that the best way to reassure or console Harry was to simply offer him some warmth and closeness.

“Y-Yeah, well,” Harry trailed off, not sure how to respond.

They didn’t leave the tattoo parlour for a while longer since Louis still had to get his tattoo done. Unlike Harry, he’d gone through this experience plenty of times before, so he didn’t even flinch when Ben started inking his flesh. Harry still held his hand through it, though, mostly because they were just a couple of dumb saps that couldn’t be without touching each other for more than two minutes. By the end of it, Louis had an identical rose on his arm (thank God there was just enough available space for the tattoo there) that matched Harry’s to a tee. Ben wrapped the tattoos in gauze to protect the skin from infection, and they were finally free to go.

Some time had already passed since Harry’s inking, but he still seemed quite shaken up, so once Louis had finished paying at the front desk, thanking the artist quickly, he gently led his boyfriend out to their car, keeping his touch gentle in case Harry was still sensitive from the pain. He really hadn’t expected Harry to react so badly to it; Louis himself had never been too bothered by the sensation, even enjoyed it sometimes, but he seemed to have forgotten that he was dating a boy that once started crying buckets because he’d stubbed his toe on a doorframe.

“Tell you what, babe,” Louis began, once he’d gotten them both settled in their seats. As he pulled out onto the street and started driving towards a new destination, he continued, “Since you did so well in there, I’m going to take you somewhere special and help you take your mind off of it, alright?”

Harry seemed a bit puzzled, his brow furrowed slightly as he wondered where Louis could be taking him, but nevertheless, he answered softly, “Okay, sure. I love you, Lou.”

“Love you too, Harold.”

 

\+ + +

“Lou, what are we doing h—”

Harry was cut off by the obstruction of his boyfriend’s lips pressed tenderly against his, not that he was complaining. Allowing the older boy to guide him further into the field,  _their_  field, he closed his eyes, returning the kiss with just as much passion and care.

“I’m going to take care of you, okay?” Louis murmured against Harry mouth, snaking his tongue out to swipe it over the boy’s plump lower lip. He walked Harry closer to the center of the wide field of flowers where they’d be surrounded by the ring of trees and blanket of tall grass, gently lowering Harry to the ground. He carefully set him on his back among the blossoming tulips and daisies, taking a long moment to simply drink in every detail of his boyfriend’s perfection, prompting the boy in question to flutter his green eyes open and stare inquisitively up at the older one.

“Take off your sweater for me, love,” Louis commanded, his tone firm but gentle. His eyes followed the movement of Harry’s body as he complied, exposing the long expanse of his torso, skin pure and soft, except for the new artwork hiding beneath its bandages.

They’d decided to get the matching tattoos for a couple of reasons. Harry wanted to do something for Louis, and he figured getting his first tattoo for him was a nice way to go. In turn, he let Louis choose what they would get, so Louis had decided on a rose, something symbolic of Harry that would hold meaning for both of them. Now, however, after witnessing the pain on Harry’s face while he got his skin brandished with the symbol, Louis felt he had to do something  _more_  for Harry to make up for the experience he just went through for Louis.

So he reached for Harry’s pants.

“W-Wait, Lou—”

Louis silenced Harry with another hard kiss pressed to his mouth, nudging his lips open to deepen it. Meanwhile, his hands made quick work of the younger boy’s button and zipper, slowly easing the jeans down his legs until he could pull them off completely, leaving him nearly starkers in only a pair of white briefs that clung to his groin, leaving nothing to the imagination. Louis broke off from Harry’s mouth and looked down at the new image, groaning out loud as he saw the boy’s cock twitch in his underwear, the curve of his hardening erection jutting against the fabric. Without a second of hesitation, Louis slid down his boyfriend’s body until he was settled in the gap between his knees, resting one hand against the soft skin of his thigh while the other landed flat on the bulge in his briefs.

Harry’s cock started to ache and throb under the insistent warmth of Louis’s hand, the hard length straining against its confines as Louis began to gently grind his palm into the shaft, his fingertips tickling at the clothed head until Harry was practically writhing in desperation, keening at the pressure. “L-Lou, please,” he whimpered, voice already low and thick with need.

“Please what, Harry?” Louis lowered his head to drag his tongue hard against the underside of his boyfriend’s d*ck, sucking on the hardness through the damp fabric. As Harry moaned at the feeling, Louis noted a dark patch by the tip and lapped at the wet spot lightly, tasting the precum that was soaking through the material.

“P-Please, Lou,  _help_.”

Knowing that was probably the most he was going to get out of his too-innocent boyfriend, Louis finally conceded and tugged the pair of briefs down, letting the waistband drag roughly over the sensitive skin of Harry’s flushed cock, drawing a deep groan from him. Louis let his tongue flick softly at the pink head, his fingers curling around the base of Harry’s cock. He licked off a bead of precum that was pooling at the top, dipping the tip of his tongue inside the small slit briefly. Slowly, he started to slide his hand up and down along Harry’s stiff length, feeling the blood pulse hot under his touch. He parted his pink lips and slid them down to engulf the head inside his warm mouth, swirling his tongue around the heated flesh. Harry let out a pleased moan at the feeling, his hands flying down to lace through Louis’s hair and grasp the feathery brown strands in his fingers, not pulling or pushing, just gently holding on. “Louuuu,” he whined, his voice heavy with lust.

Loving the way Harry was trembling below him, Louis slowly eased more of Harry’s hard length into his mouth, his soft lips sliding along the skin as he stroked his tongue against the shaft. The warm caresses coaxed more moans out of Harry, spurring Louis on to take more of his cock until the tip hit the back of his throat, nearly making him gag. Louis focused on breathing through his nose, savouring how fucking  _full_  his mouth felt, as he still tried to swallow more of Harry’s cock, not stopping until his lips were wrapped around the base and his nose was pressing into the bottom of Harry’s tummy.

“Oh, God, Lou, your mouth feels so good,” Harry groaned, feeling a familiar sizzle in the pit of his stomach already. When Louis began to gradually slide his lips up and down the length of his dick, Harry whimpered and clenched a fistful of Louis’s hair in his fingers, eyes squeezed shut as he indulged in the sensation of the hot mouth on his cock. Then, when Louis started to suck on the erection in his mouth, the tight, wet suction was too much for Harry, and he found himself teetering on the edge, muscles in his abdomen tensing. All it took was one soft squeeze of Harry’s balls to hurl him into a body-wracking orgasm.

Louis kept his lips wrapped tightly around Harry’s cock as he came with a shout, staring up at his moaning mess of a boyfriend and blatantly admiring the complete bliss etched on his face. Once he’d swallowed the spurts of Harry’s warm spunk, he slowly eased the softening dick out of his mouth, letting his tongue swipe once more over the sensitive tip to clean off the remaining bits of cum. The touch nearly jolted Harry into overstimulation while he was still coming down from his high, so Louis gently released his grasp on the boy’s spent cock and slowly made his way up Harry’s body until he was kneeling above his abdomen, Louis’s knees on either side of Harry while his perky bum rested on the boy’s stomach.

With half-lidded eyes, Harry shifted his gaze to the prominent bulge in Louis’s black skinny jeans, drowsily reaching out to hook one of his fingers in the belt loop and tug lightly. “What about you, Lou?” he murmured, pleasure still nestled in each of his features. He looked sated and happy; Louis, on the other hand, clearly did not. “C’mon, take your kit off,” Harry encouraged softly. “Cum on my chest, Lou.”

And who was Louis to say no to that?

A rosy blush painting his cheekbones, Louis hurried to unzip and yank open his trousers, wriggling the jeans down only an inch or so, just enough to easily extract his cock from his gray briefs. The shaft was flushed a delicious red and looked painfully hard, the tip leaking precum like it was going out of style. Without any preamble, Louis curled his fingers around the base of his cock and started tugging roughly - just the way he liked it - from the root to the head and back again, hand flying at a fast, desperate pace. Before long, Louis was a moaning mass of pleasure, gazing down at Harry’s expression of post-orgasm bliss as he fisted his cock furiously. He flickered back to the fresh, heated memory of sucking the boy off just now, recalling the taste of his semen in his mouth, and the thought was enough to make him suddenly shoot off in heavy ropes of cum on Harry’s chest. The creamy fluid spilled over his boyfriend’s pecs, leaving a stripe across one dark puffy nipple, another shot hitting one of his sharp collarbones and dripping onto his neck.

The sight made Louis moan out loud, prompting him to scoot himself down in order to reach Harry’s face, pressing a soft kiss to his pliant, warm mouth. “God, you look so pretty like this,” he mumbled against the younger boy’s pink lips, nipping at the bottom one before straightening again and rolling off of Harry’s body. He landed on the grass beside him and tucked his cock back into his briefs, leaving the jeans undone so there wouldn’t be too much pressure on his sensitive member. Once he could sit sort of comfortably, he tugged his black V-neck off and used it to gingerly wipe the mess off of Harry’s torso, figuring he’d be fine with just his white undershirt for now, depositing the soiled black shirt in the grass a few feet away.

Once he’d finished gently cleaning off the both of them and had redressed Harry with love and care as if he were a child, Louis lowered himself onto the ground and curled up beside his boyfriend, snuggling into his firm body. Harry was nearly half-asleep, but he still had enough energy to wrap his arm around Louis’s body and pull the older albeit smaller boy comfortably into his side, the two of them basking in each other’s warmth. A soft, “ _Love you, Lou_ ,” was uttered into Louis’s feathery hair, and the returning, “ _Love you too, Curly_ ,” was pressed against the green-eyed boy’s smooth neck.

Right before their eyes fluttered shut against the sun’s glow bright colours of the flowers in their special field, Louis muttered sleepily, “So d’you feel better, babe? About the tattoo?”

“Love, I’d gladly get a million more tattoos if it meant you’d suck me off like this after every one.”

Despite being nearly unconscious, Louis still had enough awareness to smack Harry upside the head for that and mutter half-heartedly, “Lecher.”

“I love you, my big, macho, tattooed boyfriend.”

“I love you too, you ridiculous flower-wearing sap.”


End file.
